


A Different Story

by JEAikman



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Thrain visits the Shire, Fell Winter, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JEAikman/pseuds/JEAikman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not the story you know, for in that story, Thorin Oakenshield and his Company were the first dwarves that Bilbo Baggins had met in his life. That is not so in this story.</p>
<p>In this story, long before Bilbo's pantry was ever pillaged by the Company, a strange old dwarf stopped  for a few months in the Shire, and he told the most magnificent stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Story

**Author's Note:**

> Okay okay, I know that I've still got a lot of other fics to be working on, but this plotbunny wouldn't leave me alone. it's not going to be a particularly long fic, just one or two more chapters :)

This is not the story you know, for in that story, Thorin Oakenshield and his Company were the first dwarves that Bilbo Baggins had met in his life. That is not so in this story.

 

In this story, long before Bilbo's pantry was ever pillaged by the Company, a strange old dwarf stopped for a few months in the Shire, and he told the most magnificent stories. Bilbo was not quite a fauntling any more at that time, so he had outgrown his years of chasing after elves in the wood, but stories were still some of his favourite adventures, so he sat and listened as the old dwarf spun his tale, though all of the other children were afraid to go near the stranger.

“You have courage, young lad,” the dwarf would say, “and that will get you far – but it will also get you killed.” And then he would go on to tell a story of war and devastation in the ancestral halls of his homeland. Of how the king was killed, and grown dwarrows, and those who were still just lads besides, including the dwarf's youngest son. “This is his hair I carry with me, and his braid.” He held it out for Bilbo to look. “He was only forty – or was it thirty nine? I cannot remember. But he was too young – they were all too young, and my f- my king should never have led us on that fool's errand. Moria the elves named it, and as fitting a name for that pit of despair I ever heard!” Bilbo asked the dwarf if he would like a hug, but the storyteller laughed. “Now, young Bilbo Baggins, dwarves don't hug just because they're feeling sad-” But Bilbo hugged him anyway.

“Then dwarves are silly and have no sense.” Bilbo declared, sounding as sure of himself as a Baggins should. “Hugs make everything better, because if someone's hugging you then you know you're not alone.” The dwarf sat frozen for a long moment, before returning the hug, and he started shaking – it took Bilbo a moment to realise that the dwarf was crying.

 

“Apologies, little one, but I have been alone for a very long time.” The dwarf stood, and was about to be on his way, when he groaned. “Dear me, these old joints tell me there will be snow tonight.” Bilbo believed the dwarf, even though it was only autumn, and he then made a very Tookish decision.

“Come and stay the night, until it passes over. You'll catch your death of cold out on the road at night.”

 

Of course, his father was less than pleased with him, and he made no secret of it.

“Bilbo Baggins, who do you think you are? You are a Baggins, of Bag End, and we do not invite _strangers_ into our house to spend the night.” Fortunately for both Bilbo and his dwarf, Belladonna was there to cool her husband's temper.

“He is also a _Took_ , and neither a Took _or_ a Baggins will turn away a weary traveller in their time of need, will they?” Bilbo watched as his mother stared down his father, and Bungo deflated in defeat. 

“Very well, Master Dwarf, you may have the guest bedroom. I'm afraid it's Man-sized on account of our most frequent visitor being Bella's wizard friend, but-”

“ _Bilbil!_ ” Came an excited squeal from down the hall. Bilbo's eyes lit up and he opened his arms to scoop up his little brother and spin him in the air, before setting him down again, much dizzier than before. Really, they were both too old for such antics, but Bilbo wanted to spoil his little brother as much as possible – especially after hearing the dwarf's stories about his sons.

 

“Hey, Wilbur. I made a new friend today.” and so he introduced his brother to the dwarf – or he began to, and he realised he did not know the dwarf's name.

“Oh, forgive me lad, it must have slipped my mind. My name is Thrain, and it is an honour that you would choose to share your home with me.” He bowed very low, and even Bungo warmed to him when he realised how polite and proper this dwarf was.

 

But that night began the Fell Winter, and though Thrain helped as best he could, by the end of it, only Bella and Bilbo were left of their family, the others lost to cold and wolves. Thrain left, looking haunted, and Bilbo had understood as soon as the wolves took his little brother from him, just why Thrain didn't want to go back home. Home wasn't the same when there was no family there to share it.

 

Tidying up the house once they had said goodbye, Bilbo realised that Thrain had left his son's braid. It was too late now to go after him, so Bilbo kept it safe in a special keepsake box, in the hope that one day, the sad old dwarf might come back to retrieve it – but he never did. Part of him wondered if Thrain had done it on purpose, so that someone could keep his son's memory alive even if he perished on his wanderings of the wild. And sometimes he wondered about Thrain's other son, what he was doing, if he missed his little brother as much as Bilbo missed Wilbur. If he could, he would ask him if it ever hurt any less to turn and talk to him, but then realise that he wasn't there and that he never would be again.

 

And then one day, about thirty years later, by which time he had lost his mother too, Gandalf showed up at his door, trying to recruit him for an  _adventure._ He very much did not want to go, but he dug out the bow that Thrain had helped him make, along with his old hunting knife – if he was going on an adventure, he was not going unprepared.

 


End file.
